


Rage, Rage Against

by buckysbears (DrZebra)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5x05 tag, Angst, Episode Tag, Gen, Leo Fitz-centric, Self-Harm, just an expansion of one scene, the self harm is the headbanging, this is during the montage when fitz is in solitary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 14:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13192089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrZebra/pseuds/buckysbears
Summary: Fitz yells.His mind yells back louder.It's not like I can be a hero, Fitz thinks.





	Rage, Rage Against

**Author's Note:**

> unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot/achillesmonkey wanted to see an expansion of the headbanging scene, and who am i to say no to a request so tailored to my interests

There was too much in his head.

He closed his eyes against the sensation, hand tightening into a fist, shaking with the effort of clenching it. He breathed harshly through his teeth, saliva pricking angrily at the nerves in his jaw. His fist shook, and he grabbed it with his other hand to steady it. That only made him realize it wasn’t just his fist—his whole body was shaking. He could feel panic welling up in his chest. Expanding behind his ribs like a helium balloon. Soon he was going to pop.

Fitz yelled.

His brain yelled louder. Like two children in a screaming match, doing it for attention or glory or just because it’s too much. Because life is too fucking much, it’s too rich, too busy, too dull, too unbelievable—too absolutely fucking insane (not that Fitz was one to judge. He was pretty sure sitting in a dark room and screaming at your own head counted for a few points on the ‘insane scale’).

Fitz yelled until his throat was raw. Until he came away panting and sobbing. He didn’t cry. No tears came. But sobs pushed nonetheless up through his burning throat and echoed in the tiny room.

He fisted his hands in the orange pants of his jumpsuit, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on the feeling of his elbows rattling, of his stomach muscles quivering.

His brain did what his brain did best, nowadays. Which was rage against the silence. It felt like someone had left four radios on at full volume, and all of them were pressed up against Fitz’s ears. He cupped his hands over his ears to block out the noise, but that only concentrated it. A whine pulled out of his chest.

_Fitz, you need to calm down._

He didn’t really hear it. It was in his head, he knew that much. But it broke through the radio-like chatter, the stomach-churning chaos that his brain seemed delighted to torture him with. His mouth fell open, and his hands fell away from his ears.

It sounded like May.

He gave a shaky nod, though there was no one to see him. He took a deep breath.

_List things you know_.

Daisy, that time. His hand reached out before he could stop it, grasping at the air. He let it fall to his lap, and then swallowed.

My name is Leo Fitz, he thought. I am 30 years old. I was born in the Southern General Hospital in Glasgow. I am an Agent of SHIELD. My mother is safe. My friends might not be safe. They might be … anywhere. Anything could’ve happened to them. I don’t know where they are.

_Keep on track_. Coulson.

Fitz’s hand reached up to dig his nails against his scalp.

Keep on track, he thought. I am in this cell. It has been 53 days. I am here to find out where my friends are. I will find out where my friends are. My friends are gone. They left me. I got left behind again and I don’t know where they are but they left. Everyone keeps leaving and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t hold on tight enough because everyone always leaves and even if I find them they’ll leave again or they’ll be taken away and there’s nothing I can do, there’s never anything I can do and I’m powerless to stop anything from happening, I don’t even know why I try because it’s not like anything will change, it’s not like one man can stand up to the chaotic tide of the universe. It’s not like I can be a hero. I’ll always just be worthless.

_Crack!_

The noise startles Fitz the most. For a moment, he thinks this is another thing coming from inside his own head. Then he feels the dull pain at the back of his skull. And he realizes what happened.

He also realizes that his brain, just for a second, had gone quiet.

Fitz tips his head forward again and slams it back against the wall. It’s a satisfying feeling, despite the burst of pain that comes like sparks flying from machinery. He rears his head and slams it back again. And again. Over and over, until his brain shrinks back with a quiet shriek, and then goes still.

He breathes through his mouth, staring dully before him. Everything is quiet. His head throbs, but it’s still. Dulled. Calm.

He reaches back and prods at the sore spot. When he pulls his finger back, there’s just the faintest hint of blood.

_Oh, Fitz_.

Fitz works his throat until he swallows.

“Sorry, Jem,” he breathes.

And then he gets back to work.


End file.
